A Werewolf's Unexpected Mate-Chapter 33: Thunoa Village Troubles and Suspicions
Ovelia’s POV
Ace’s arms were like iron bands around me, his body trembling slightly against mine. The warm cedar-and-leather scent of him surrounded me, but beneath it I caught the acrid tang of fear-sweat. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird, each frantic beat echoing the unspoken question - what horror was he shielding me from?
"Khaleed," Chief Gareth’s voice cut through the buzzing in my ears, deeper and rougher than usual, "get some men to handle these... remains on the road. Once it’s cleaned up, tell the villagers the situation’s contained." The pause before ’remains’ made my stomach twist.
"Right away, Chief!" Khaleed’s boots scuffed against dirt as he hurried off, his footsteps fading into the distance.
My fingers dug into Ace’s tunic. "What bodies? What happened? Is R—?" The words tumbled out in a breathless rush, my voice rising with each syllable.
A new presence approached - I knew Ray’s scent even before he spoke. "I’m here." His voice was hollow, like someone had scooped out his insides. "The two werewolf bandits... they forced a suicide shift." The words landed like stones in a still pond. "Blew themselves apart rather than be captured."
A small, broken sound escaped Ann. "My lady..." Her hand found mine, fingers icy despite the warm afternoon sun.
I buried my face deeper into Ace’s chest, suddenly grateful for his protective embrace. The image of those exploding bodies would have haunted me forever. My breath hitched as a tremor ran through me. I wanted to be strong, to face this world’s horrors head-on, but right now all I could do was cling to Ace like a child hiding from thunder.
"While they handle the... cleanup," Chief Gareth said, the strain evident in his voice, "let’s continue our discussion inside. Merchant, you’re coming too."
Ace finally loosened his grip, his hands coming up to frame my face. His gray eyes burned with intensity. "Don’t look around," he murmured, thumbs brushing my cheeks. "Eyes straight ahead, on the chief’s house. Understand?"
I nodded, my throat too tight to speak. As we turned, the setting sun painted the sky in brilliant oranges and purples, the colors so vibrant they seemed to mock the darkness we’d just witnessed.
•Chief Gareth’s house•
Chief Gareth’s wife - a plump woman with kind eyes and flour-dusted apron - rushed forward the moment we entered.
"By the gods, are you all alright?" Her hands fluttered like nervous birds. "I heard the commotion but couldn’t see—" Her voice caught as she took in our ashen faces.
"We’re fine, my love," Chief Gareth said, pulling her close and pressing a kiss to her temple. "No one was hurt."
Then, to my surprise, his wife enveloped both Ann and me in a hug that smelled of cinnamon and home. "You poor dears," she murmured, her voice thick with maternal concern. "Seeing those bandits must have been terrifying."
Her hug enveloped me like a comforting blanket, reminiscent of a mother’s love. Hot tears pricked at my eyes, but I blinked them away fiercely.
The chief sighed, rubbing his neck. "Apologies. We never had children of our own, so my wife tends to... mother everyone."
"Nonsense," she chided, releasing us with a final squeeze. "Now, I’ll prepare dinner for our guests."
"I’d love to help!" The words burst from me with more enthusiasm than I intended. Cooking meant normalcy, a distraction from the blood and chaos outside. 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂
Ann brightened immediately. "Me too! I make a mean herb-roasted chicken."
The Chief Gareth’s wife laughter was like wind chimes. "Well now, with two such lovely assistants, this will be the finest meal Thunoa’s seen in ages!" She winked, leading us toward the kitchen where the rich scent of simmering stew welcomed us like an old friend.
As we gathered ingredients - Ann expertly chopping vegetables while I kneaded dough - the rhythmic, familiar motions began to soothe my frayed nerves. Here, surrounded by the comforting clatter of pots and the Chief Gareth’s wife cheerful humming, I could almost pretend we were just ordinary people sharing an ordinary meal.
Ace’s POV
The melodic sound of Ovelia’s laughter drifted from the kitchen, mingling with the rhythmic clatter of pots and Ann’s cheerful humming. That simple domestic harmony wrapped around me like a warm blanket, easing the tension in my shoulders. For this fleeting moment, with the scent of roasting herbs and baking bread wrapping around us, we could almost pretend we were just an ordinary family visiting friends.
"Let’s all sit down and properly introduce ourselves," Chief Gareth suggested, his bass voice rumbling through the cozy living space. The firelight danced across his weathered face as he gestured toward the worn but comfortable chairs arranged around the oak dining table.
As we settled in, Gareth began with practiced authority, "I’m Gareth, chief of Thunoa Village for twenty-three years now." His calloused hand gestured toward the kitchen where savory aromas wafted through the doorway. "And that angel you hear singing off-key is my wife, Melinda."
I felt two pairs of eyes studying me intently - Gareth’s sharp, assessing gaze and the merchant’s curious, almost calculating stare. The merchant’s fingers tapped a restless rhythm against his thigh as he waited.
Clearing my throat, I fabricated our cover story. "I’m A, traveling merchant from Silverhowl." I jerked my thumb toward Ray. "This is R, my business partner." A fond smile tugged at my lips as I nodded toward the kitchen. "Those lovely ladies are my wife Lia and our daughter Ann."
Better to weave a false narrative; I didn’t know if the merchant was a friend or foe.
The merchant’s eyebrows shot up. "Lia..." He dragged out the name like he was tasting it. "Now that’s curious. Sounds mighty close to the name of that human princess from Silverhowl - Ovelia, wasn’t it?"
My blood turned to ice. The chair creaked as my posture went rigid, every muscle coiled tight. How would a wandering merchant know royal names? Only those living in the five kingdoms would—
Ray’s boot nudged mine under the table - a silent warning to stay calm. "What a wild coincidence!" He laughed, the picture of relaxed amusement, though I saw the tension in how his claws barely pricked the table’s surface. "We are from Silverhowl, after all."
The merchant’s smile didn’t reach his cold, assessing eyes. "I’m Philip, a wandering merchant. I reside in the Amethyst Kingdom" He said it like a challenge, watching for our reactions.
So that’s why he knew about Ovelia.
"Ah," I forced a grin, leaning forward with feigned interest. "That explains those impressive moves earlier. Everyone in Amethyst learns combat from childhood, don’t they?" My tone was light, but my gaze never left his face, searching for any tell, any flicker of deception.
Philip inclined his head, "From age six till sixteen," he confirmed. "Though some of us never lose the... appetite for it."
Ray broke the tension with a sharp exhale. "Look, we’ve all got questions," he said, his usual playful demeanor replaced by steely focus. "But first things first - Chief Gareth, we need to understand what’s really been happening here this past month." His orange eyes burned with intensity. "Start from the beginning."
I clenched my jaw, my instincts screaming that Philip knew more than he let on. But Ray was right - the village’s crisis came first.
The chief’s shoulders sagged as if bearing an invisible weight. When he spoke, his voice carried the gravelly texture of sleepless nights. "It started with raids. Werewolf bandits - stronger, faster than any we’d faced before." His fist clenched on the tabletop. "Our own werewolf residents fought bravely to protect the village, but..." His throat worked as he swallowed hard. "We were outmatched."
A log cracked in the fireplace, sending up a shower of sparks that mirrored the anger burning in my chest.
"Then," Gareth continued, "a stranger came - a woman traveler. She offered us salvation in the form of... black magic chains." His fingers traced an uneasy pattern in the wood grain. "With those, we finally drove the bandits back. They fled on stolen horses, taking half our winter stores with them."
My pulse quickened. Black chains? Just like Ann had reported from Meadowlark. What game were these witches playing?
"And this woman?" I pressed, leaning forward. "What became of her?"
"Vanished by morning," Gareth said, spreading his hands. "And the chains... by next dusk they were just ordinary metal. Useless." His mouth twisted bitterly. "After that, the attacks worsened. Merchants and supply caravans were slaughtered, but some managed to escape and sought refuge here, unable to travel to other villages."
I couldn’t shake the feeling that the arrival of that traveler was no mere coincidence. The timing felt too perfect, too calculated. Something was amiss with that woman.
"Philip," Ray interjected suddenly, "where were you during all this?"
"I was in the Amethyst Kingdom, selling various goods gathered from many kingdoms, cities, and villages. Why?" Philip replied a hint of pride in his tone.
"Did you happen to see a messenger there from Thunoa Village?" Ray inquired, his brow furrowing in worry.
"A man, his face wrapped in cloth, dressed entirely in black," Chief Gareth described, his expression serious.
"I didn’t see anyone like that. If a messenger showed up asking for help, King Alfred wouldn’t ignore it; he would dispatch his troops immediately to assist this village," Philip added firmly.
Ray nodded, understanding. "You’re right; King Alfred never neglects his people."
"So, it confirms what my companions and I suspected—there’s a chance that a bandit killed the messenger, preventing him from reaching the Amethyst Kingdom and the Silverhowl Kingdom," I said, dread creeping into my voice.
"Exactly. I believe they killed or captured him because they knew they wouldn’t be safe in Thunoa once troops from Amethyst or Silverhowl arrived," Ray explained, his eyes narrowing with determination.
"They’re exploiting the damaged bridge in the Wildfire Kingdom, knowing merchants and supply caravans must pass through this village," Philip added, his voice filled with urgency.
A chill ran down my spine as another realization struck. "Chief Gareth... there’s a traitor in your village." I reached into my cloak and produced the damning letter. "This letter bears your seal, yet you claim you never sent it. Someone in this village forged your reply and sent it using our carrier pigeon."
"It’s impossible!" Chief Gareth exclaimed, his face a mask of disbelief.
"So, Chief Gareth, you’re the traitor in your own village?" Philip challenged, his eyes burning with anger.
"No, he’s not the traitor," Ray interjected, his voice calm yet firm. "The moment we arrived, I could see the frustration etched on his face. He’s been waiting for us, and until now, he hasn’t uttered a single lie."
Ray had a unique gift for sensing the truth in others—a talent that earned him his general promotion.
"Thank you for believing me," Chief Gareth said, his voice heavy with resignation. "But if what you say is true, and there’s a traitor among my people, why didn’t he or she just kill the carrier pigeon?"
"Because that would raise more suspicion," I finished. "A dead royal carrier pigeon? That screams conspiracy. King Raymond would smell a rat—and send more reinforcements to investigate."
"Then your mission is to capture the bandits. I’ve made up my mind," Philip said, determination glinting in his eyes. "I will help you so I could take back everything they stole from me."
"If that’s what you want, I’m fine with it. I know you won’t slow as down," I assured him, sharing a laugh that lightened the tension in the room.
"Chief, has there been any word from the guards in the Crimsonheart Kingdom?" Ray suddenly asked, concern creeping into his voice.
"None yet, and I haven’t received any news about their arrival," Chief Gareth replied, his expression darkening.
"Then they might be on their way here now. We can’t wait for them any longer. R, what do you think we should do tomorrow?" I asked, my mind racing with possibilities.
Ray suddenly went rigid, his nostrils flaring. "We’re being watched," he murmured, so low only my werewolf hearing caught it.
I suddenly felt it too - that prickle at the back of the neck every predator recognizes. My gaze snapped to the window just in time to see a shadow detach itself from the darkness outside.
In a flash, I was at the door, yanking it open to reveal—
"Khaleed?" Gareth boomed. The man stood frozen on the doorstep, his face a mask of guilty shock.
